Vivian Arend - High Passion

They were left in pitch black.

A pain-filled groan rose, and Alisha slipped forward using the walls as a guide. “Devon?”

* * *

Soft hands touched his face a moment before her strong arms helped him to his feet again.

“You’re crazy,” Alisha whispered. “You’ve been shot. You shouldn’t be walking, let alone fighting.”

“And leave you to him? Fuck that.” Devon leaned harder on the wall behind him. He took the headlamp he’d found in her abandoned backpack from his pocket, where he’d put it before leaping from the shadows. He pressed it into her hands. She twisted it on, and suddenly he could see every inch of her beautiful, worried face. “I couldn’t leave you. Thank you for figuring out what I was talking about, because I wouldn’t have been able to jump him otherwise.”

“He can’t get out.” Alisha gestured down the passage ahead of them. “He’s got nowhere to finish except up against the base of the first descent. If Lana is there with a rope for him to escape, Erin will stop them, and either way, the RCMP should be here soon. We’re safe.”

Devon tested his leg. The pain he’d ignored while tracking after Vincent and Alisha into the tunnels had lessened, probably because he was going numb. “Lana isn’t on his side, at least not fully.”

Alisha wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tight. “I was so scared I’d lost you.”

God. “Me, too. I never want that to happen again.”

“I knew better than to go to his suite by myself. Why didn’t you?” Alisha complained.

Devon smiled sheepishly. “What was he going to do? Knock me out, drag me to some cave, then try to kill me?”

“Don’t joke.”

“Hold it right there.” Blindingly bright lights hit them, and both Devon and Alisha turned their faces away and covered their eyes. “RCMP.”

Devon waved a hand toward the ground. “Lower the lights. We’re the good guys.”

“Opinions vary on that.” A deep chuckle followed as the lights shifted to the sidewalls, making it simpler to see the team of three who crowded the passageway. Their faces were familiar—men with whom Devon and Alisha had played poker during different social gatherings in the past. One of them smirked as he stepped forward. “Devon. What’s this I hear about you being kidnapped?”

God, he was never going to live this one down. “Hey, James.” Devon switched footing and grimaced as pain shot up his spine. “It was all a ploy. You need to go farther in to catch your man.”

Alisha tilted her head deeper into the mountain. “You know the route? Vincent’s no longer armed, and he should be trapped at the headwall.”

One of the other constables nodded. “We’ll take care of it.” Two of the team rushed past. Alisha called after them, “There’s another woman at the top who might have a rope to help him, but our pilot is up there watching.”

James knelt to check Devon. “We already talked to Erin, and we have a team at that entrance as well. Damn, Devon, you got yourself shot.”

“Really?” Devon wanted to say something smart-assed and quick-witted, but he was having a tough time concentrating now that his adrenaline rush was fading. “Nah, this is how tough we are on Lifeline. We enjoy making rescues more challenging by first opening a vein.”

James snorted, standing and patting Devon on the back. “Okay, tough guy, if you insist. You’ll live long enough to hobble to the exit. I’m going to give the guys backup. You okay?”

Devon nodded.

“Wait,” Alisha interrupted. “Before you go. Vincent’s gun.”

She disappeared down the passage for a moment before returning, holding it as if it were a rotting carcass. James took possession before vanishing, the stillness of the cavern returning as his footfalls faded.

A slow trickle of water played in the background, muted voices in the far distance, but mainly the sound of their breathing and the strange noises created by being amplified underground.

He still held Alisha’s hand. Her fingers were cool in his, wet and dirty. Both of them were filthy from the mud and water covering everything. When he turned her, though, she went willingly enough, pressing against him and lifting her lips to his.

Pain that laced through his body faded at the sweetness of her kiss. The brush of her tongue, the clasp of her arms around his shoulders—he could have lost this, and the idea shook him.

Then the truth rushed in.

They could have lost each other, but they hadn’t. They’d done what they had to do, both of them, and now they could move forward.

Together.

They clung to each other for another moment before pulling apart. Devon caught her under the chin, the streaks of dirt and wet mud smeared on them forgotten as he looked into her eyes. “I love you, Alisha Bailey. Thank you for saving my life.”

She went teary-eyed before smiling back, the dim lantern light making them look as if they’d been painted up to play war games. “I love you, Devon. Thanks for saving mine.”

This time he was the one lying on the stiff white sheets of the hospital bed as Alisha parted the privacy curtains. Her smile broke over him like sunshine.

It was nearly five hours since Vincent had gone off the deep end. Under protest, Devon had been taken straight to the Banff hospital by Erin in the chopper while Alisha stuck around to accompany the RCMP. It got him medical attention a whole lot faster—he understood the reasoning, but he hated like hell that they’d been separated.

Now that he’d been poked and prodded and his wound wrapped up, he wanted nothing more than to be reunited with her and get the rest of the story. Seeing her just affirmed all over how much the rest of the story had to involve the two of them together.

“You clean up pretty good,” he teased, keeping it a whole lot more lighthearted than he wanted to. “Tell me you’ve come to rescue me.”

“Rescue you? I’m saving the staff. The nurses inform me you’re a shitty patient, and requested I please haul your ass out of here as soon as possible.” She stepped beside the bed and leaned in to kiss him.

He caught her around the waist and tugged her onto the bed, ignoring her protests and concentrating on kissing her senseless. She softened in his arms, her torso pressed tight to his, and he groaned softly, wanting nothing better than to take her home and prove all over again how much he wanted her.

How much he needed her.

She caressed his cheek, her lips against his breaking into a smile. “We should save this for later. Marcus called us all to HQ, if you’re feeling up for it.”

Devon sighed. “There goes the ten-kilometer hike I was going to suggest. Damn, that man ruins all our fun.” His brother’s familiar ring tone sounded, and Devon glanced at Alisha in surprise. “Do you have my phone in your pocket?”

She rolled off the bed. “Lana had your phone, so the police have it now. That’s my phone. I added Mark to my address book and figured your musical salute was as good as any . . . I called him while you were in surgery.” Devon growled, and she tossed him a dirty look even as she handed over the phone. “They’re your family, and they deserved to know.”

He tapped to answer the call, still giving Alisha the evil eye. “Mark?”

“Devon, oh God, are you okay?”

He couldn’t resist. “You caught me on the surgery table. You want prime rib or rump roast?”

To his surprise he didn’t get an instant lecture to grow up. Instead, Mark laughed with relief. “So good to hear you joking around. I’m glad to hear you made it through with only minor injuries. We’re all glad—the whole family. Didn’t want to keep you from your rest or anything, so I said I’d call on behalf of everyone.”

Devon stared at the phone for a moment before speaking. “Well, I’m okay.”

“You’re more than okay. You’re an amazing guy, and I’m damn proud of you. Sounds as if you and Alisha have a lot to tell us the next time you come into town. You want to come over sometime before Christmas? I mean before the big family thing? We’ll do adults-only dinner, and you guys can tell us about Lifeline a bit more. It’s tough to have a real conversation with the kids racing around all the time.”

So this was what shock felt like. Strange—took until this phone call for it to set in. “That sounds . . . That sounds like a great idea. We’d love to.”

“I’ll get an e-mail loop going with everyone, so we can nail down a time and a place that at least eighty percent of us can make it.”

“Okay.” Devon was sure he had a stupid grin on his face, and it only got bigger when Mark spoke again.

“You’ve done well for yourself, Devon. Your job isn’t what I would have chosen, but then you’re not me. I’m glad you’re doing something you love, but for God’s sake, don’t get shot again, okay?”

“I’ll work on that.”

Devon hung up and caught Alisha by the wrist, tugging her to his body and holding her close as he breathed past the emotions that threatened to make him bawl like a baby. His issues with his family weren’t over with one phone call, but it was a start.

“Thank you,” he whispered in her ear. “I don’t know what you said to them, but thank you.”

She was smiling when they pulled apart, moisture in her eyes. “We’ll talk about it later. We’ve got a meeting to get to.”

He tried to refuse the hospital wheelchair, glaring at the nurse who’d rolled it to his bedside.

“Stop being a pain in the ass, Devon, and get in,” Alisha chided.

“Screw that. You get in, and I’ll carry both you and the chair to the door.”

“I’ll deal with him.” Alisha waved the nurse off. “Get in, Ironman, you can make race-car noises if that helps distract you.”

He laughed and let her have her way. What he really wanted was to go home so he could talk about Mark’s change of attitude, and grill her about exactly what she’d said to his brother to kick his ass into gear. Not to mention all the other matters they still had to settle.

As they passed the waiting room, the name Bailey Enterprises blared from the television on the wall. Devon caught the chair wheels and jerked himself to a halt.

Flashing on the screen were the words Executive Director Arrested.

Devon glanced at Alisha. Her teasing smile faded to a blank mask as the news reported Vincent’s arrest. The camera switched to follow a man who had to be her father escaping into his car as he waved off reporters with a “No comment.” The next shot showed a smartly dressed employee stepping forward to smooth the waters.

“Mr. Monreal’s arrest appears to be of a personal nature involving estranged family members. We at Bailey Enterprises want to assure our stockholders that this in no way will affect the company. CEO Mike Bailey is completely focused on moving toward the future in a strong and positive manner.”

Damn. Devon curled his fingers over hers. She squeezed them for a moment, but neither of them spoke until they were in private by her car.

Alisha took a deep breath, staring into the sky. “Well, that would explain why he’s not answering my calls. I’m obviously part of the problem, not the solution.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Devon began, but she held up a hand.

“It’s okay. If he wants to find me, he knows where I am. Otherwise, this might just be for the best.” She briefly buried her face against his chest before straightening and wiping away her tears. “Let’s get to the meeting before they send out a search crew for us.”

This wasn’t the end of the conversation, but Devon figured he should drop it for now. Another thing to add to the discussion they would continue when they got home.

She escorted him into the Lifeline staff area and found him a seat on the couch. Alisha curled up beside him, although she grew strangely quiet. She slipped her fingers into his, and he squeezed them reassuringly and waited for the update.

Around them the team gathered. Erin stopped to punch his shoulder lightly, Tripp and Anders nodding from across the room.

The sight of Xavier’s empty place burned.

Marcus stood by the door and looked the team over carefully, his gaze pausing on Devon. His expression smeared into disgust as he glared at the leg Devon had propped up on the table in front of him, his injury raised as per doctor’s orders.

Devon shifted uncomfortably. “Stop that, Marcus. You’re giving me a complex.”

“I can’t believe you were stupid enough to get shot.”

“It’s better already. Nearly healed even,” he lied.